


Hopeless

by fangirlingovermishacollins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Castiel (Supernatural), Hopeless Dean Winchester, Kissing, M/M, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Season/Series 10, Self-Hatred, Supportive Castiel (Supernatural), Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23422477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlingovermishacollins/pseuds/fangirlingovermishacollins
Summary: Dean asks Castiel to kill him. Cas can't do it, no matter what he promised Dean.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Hopeless

**Author's Note:**

> So after rewatching a couple of episodes from earlier seasons, I got this idea for a story. I may or may not have also been inspired by a certain game feature that's been hyped up for years that was just implemented on March 31, 2020 (I want to remember the date, this is a huge deal, trust me).
> 
> So this story was born from my mind-womb, like Athena from Zeus's forehead or whatever Greek Mythology said (it's been a while).

Dean looked around at the dead bodies surrounding him. He was in a state of shock. Randy may have been an asshole who was only using Claire, but he wasn't a demon or a dick angel who'd posed any real threat.

Dean was a monster. He'd mercilessly murdered innocent humans because of the Mark. The worst part? He could both not remember and remember in all-too-specific detail what had happened. The punches he'd landed, the mens' screams as he killed them. It was a blur in his memory that played in his mind way too slowly.

Claire screamed. Dean was still frozen in place. Cas didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around his vessel's daughter, who buried her face in his shirt. She was terrified. Probably she'd only seen crime scenes like this in movies or crime TV shows where a serial killer's being chased down. 

His blood ran a red trail down his face. That first blow had hit Dean hard. His own blood mixed in with everyone else's, staining his skin. "I didn't-" he tried to say when Sam ran over and grabbed him. "I didn't mean to."

Sammy was more than willing to forget this already. He stared right into Dean's eyes. "Tell me you had no choice! Tell me it was them or you!"

Cas had already taken Claire to the Impala. He appeared in the doorway of the house, gaze landing on everything except for Dean. When he met Dean's eyes, his were full of concern and maybe a little disappointment. 

"Sam. Go join Claire. I'll handle this." Cas approached the brothers and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "She needs someone with her, and I need to speak with Dean," the angel said when Sam opened his mouth to object.

After a moment, Sam nodded and headed out, pausing in the doorway with one foot outside. He cast a worried yet hopeful look over his shoulder at Dean. Probably hoping Dean had truly had no choice in the matter and had to kill them. He wanted to believe his brother was good. 

Dean let out a humorless laugh at the thought. He was a mess. Good was the last word anyone would use to describe him, he thought bitterly. He deserved the worst treatment possible.

Which Cas wasn't giving him. Cas was gazing at him, those blue eyes of his showing all his thoughts and emotions. Understanding, concern, confusion, even a little sorrow. "Don't look at me like that," Dean said. "I don't deserve any of it, Cas. Those guys didn't do a damn thing to make me kill them, and look where the hell that got them anyway."

"Dean." Cas gripped his shoulders. "Look at me. Listen." His hand lingered on the spot where his handprint used to be burned onto Dean's skin. "I know that wasn't you."

"You serious?" Dean laughed bitterly. "That was me, alright. The Mark's changing me, damn it." His vision blurred. Was he crying?

Cas sighed and swiped at a tear that had begun its journey down Dean's face. His hand came away red and wet. "Dean," he said again. "I forgive you. I know you feel bad, and I understand."

"I don't even know why I'm crying, Cas," Dean admitted. "I don't know any damn thing right now." Without realizing it, Dean had laid his head on Cas's shoulder. The angel stayed still, not even speaking, supporting Dean sliently with the gentle touch of his hands on the hunter's back. 

"I'll let Sam know to leave us for now. He'll take care of Claire until we join them," Cas said in a hushed voice just barely above a whisper. 

"No. No, Cas. Don't." Dean sighed. "Do me a favor, though?" He looked up at Cas. "You have to do it, angel. You promised."

"I promised? I-" Cas cut himself off. "No. I can't, Dean."

"You said you wouldn't let me turn into this thing again," Dean protested. 

"You're not a demon, Dean. I have no reason to do this already," Cas insisted, his blue eyes pleading. Maybe it was the general mood of the scene, or Dean's desperate tears, but Cas's eyes looked wet for a second. Dean felt terrible about being the cause of it. "When I took in all the souls and Leviathans," the angel went on, "did you give up on me like you want me to give up on you?" 

"I summoned Death, Cas, to kill your godly ass," Dean argued. "I bound the bastard and everything." He drew in a breath. "Why the hell wouldn't you kill me now? This was too damn close." Dean shook his head.

"I am not doing this now, Dean. I refuse to kill you. You'll recover from the Mark." Cas sighed. "You will," the angel repeated, as though he needed to reassure himself of the fact.

"I'm not fighting with you about this," Dean said weakly. His tears had stopped falling, but Cas could see where they had fallen down his face. "Find a knife. Any knife, you got it?"

Cas couldn't even shake his head, staying deathly still.

Dean didn't give up. "Use the friggin' angel blade then," he compromised, reaching for Cas's arm where he knew the angel kept the weapon. 

When Dean's hand trailed down to Cas's own, and his fingers lingered near Cas's, the hunter hesitantly intertwined them. Cas looked down in surprise at their joined hands. "Get the angel blade, damn it," Dean said in a low voice, the kind of voice that did things to Cas.

Without thinking, Cas solely focused on Dean's lips suddenly close to his ear and revealed the blade. He would do anything, _anything_ , for Dean when he got like this... Cas got lost in the moment.

"See? Not so bad, huh?" Dean managed a weak smile. "It'll be over soon, angel. You can make it quick for me, okay?"

But Dean was shaking. He was scared too. Cas was suddenly pulled back into the reality of the moment. He pulled away from Dean. "No." Tears filled his eyes. Angels weren't supposed to have feelings at all for this very reason, he thought. But it was too late, and now with Dean asking Cas to kill him, all those feelings became unbearable.

"We can wait," Dean suggested. "If you want." He drew in close to Cas, speaking into Cas's neck due to his head now resting on his shoulder once again. If Dean wanted, he could be kissing the angel's neck, and even potentially facing death, the thought was tempting.

 _Screw it,_ Dean thought. He was already here, right? His lips touched Cas's skin and a full-body shiver went through Cas. He was receptive to it, then. Dean went on leaving those little kisses.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm just waiting to die, angel, so I may as well," Dean said in a whisper, lips now ghosting along Cas's jaw. 

"You are not dying tonight, Dean. If you still want that tomorrow, I," Cas started to say, pausing, "I will have no choice but to comply." He sharply inhaled a breath when Dean's lips touched a spot behind his ear. Cas felt Dean's attempt at a smirk against his skin.

"It just feels so hopeless," the hunter said with a sigh. "Hell, I just took away the closest thing Claire had to a family, after you took her dad away." He tried not to look back at Randy's corpse. 

"He was using her. Randy didn't truly care for Claire the way a father would," Cas assured Dean, grateful the topic of conversation had slightly been turned away from Dean's willingness to die. 

"And you know how a father would feel?" Dean asked, trying out a joke. "You got any kids I don't know about?" He kissed as much of the bare skin on Cas's shoulder as was possible. 

"No, Dean. I'm not a parent at all." Cas sighed and tilted his head to one side to give Dean better access to his neck again. 

"Good to hear," Dean said. For a while, the two sat in silence, both lost in thoughts of death, at least Dean was. Would he stay dead this time? Would the Mark let him die for good?

"Promise me something, Dean. Please." Cas pulled back from the hunter's gentle kisses to look into his eyes intently.

"Anything," Dean said without giving it much thought. The murder scene around him and Cas had the majority of his attention. More like all of it, honestly.

"Promise me you will try to recover from this. I can't stand to see you like you are now," Cas begged. As if it were an added incentive, Cas hesitantly brushed his lips against Dean's own. He didn't miss the way Dean's breath caught at the action. "Was that alright?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, angel. For you? Maybe I'll be okay," Dean said. He had partly said it to get Cas off his case, but the hopeful expression brightening Cas's face right now made him want to actually try, at least a little.

But he was still thinking the worst things about himself. _I deserved to die, why wouldn't he just listen to me and kill my ass?_ Cas was looking at him, his eyes still slightly wet but now there was a renewed kind of hope and gratefulness in them. Dean felt a stab of guilt in his chest when he realized Cas was so eager to believe him, to keep him _alive_ that he would allow Dean this one lie.

After a moment, Cas's expression went back to being guarded. He'd put up his emotional walls again. "I know you're not fully believing that yourself." He looked away from Dean, not surprised at all. "When we first met, Dean," he said, "You asked 'Why would an angel rescue me from Hell?' and I told you, 'Good things do happen, Dean.'"

"Yeah? And?" Dean didn't push for the angel to continue. He had to tear his gaze away from the blood and bodies again. His own blood had dried on his skin, darker red now as Dean looked at his hand. He was willing to bet Cas's hand was the same way from wiping away that tear on his face earlier.

"'Not in my experience.'" Cas drew in close to Dean. "You said that to me, those very words." His hand tentatively closed over the hunter's. Dean didn't pull away.

"Guess that's still true," Dean said without a hint of humor or even a smile. Cas's thumb stroked the top of Dean's hand in small circles.

"'What's the matter? You don't think you deserved to be saved?'" Cas asked, the exact way he had all those years ago. "Dean. You do deserve to be saved." Cas attempted a smile of his own, although it was tinged with sadness and something desperate. "You need to start believing that yourself."

"It'll take more than this to change my mind, you know," Dean said. "A hell of a lot more."

"And I'll be there every step of the way. I promise. I would never lie to you about this, Dean. I need you," Cas said, the last sentence said in a hushed voice like a sacred confession. "I need you," he repeated. "We all do."

Cas pressed his forehead against Dean's. "Can you not see it?" he asked, his voice giving away how desperate he was to make Dean see what he saw. When a tear started falling from his own eyes, Dean swiped it away without a second thought. "I wasn't supposed to feel," the angel whispered, leaning into Dean's touch.

"So what you're saying is I broke you?" Dean asked quietly.

"No. You changed me, but I didn't break," Cas said. "You never could break me. I did so much for you, Dean, can't you see? You were worth more to me than my mission in Heaven." He brought his mouth closer to Dean's.

"Lot of good that did you, huh?"

"You're worth everything." Cas finally kissed him, the first press of their lips gentle and almost shy. "I wouldn't do what I did for just anybody." 

"You chose a real screw-up," Dean tried to say, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I chose the most amazing human I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." Cas's hands were holding onto Dean's shoulders, his fingers pressing into Dean's skin through his shirt. The next kiss was more urgent. "No matter what the Mark does to you, it won't change that."

Dean tried to argue again, but Cas saw it coming and swallowed whatever words Dean was about to say with another kiss. Dean went pliant in Cas's arms. Everywhere Cas touched him communicated the emotions he had towards Dean. The meaning was clear: _You are wonderful. You are everything good in this world._

Tears sprang to life in Dean's eyes. No one had ever held him like this or said these things to him, especially not surrounded by a murder scene Dean himself had created. He wanted to believe Cas, he wanted to be worthy of every kiss and touch that passed between the two of them. 

With that thought in mind, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas's neck and, somewhat hesitantly, returned the kiss. When they broke apart, Dean saw that Cas was shaking. "You alright, angel?" he whispered, sounding broken still.

"I can't let you kill yourself," Cas said, also in a whisper, his lower lip quivering. "I can't- I won't lose you, Dean Winchester."

So Cas was scared. Almost as though he knew Dean was thinking it, he said in that same quiet voice, "I'm scared I'm going to lose you to the Mark."

"You won't." Dean held the angel in his arms, the sight of Cas so broken _this close_ to being too much for Dean to take right now. Maybe Dean was scared, too. "I'm so damn sorry for this, angel."

"You truly promise you'll keep fighting this?" Cas hopefully asked. "You're going to try to get through this?"

"I'm scared too, damn it." There it was-- the truth. Dean was scared just as much as Cas was. "I'll fight this freaking thing until I can't anymore or it's gone for good."

"You said it felt hopeless," Cas said.

"I just can't go dark again, you know? This was too close already." Dean sighed. "But damn if I have to see you like this again," he admitted. "You're killing me here, Cas."

"I'm sorry," Cas apologized.

"I am too, you know? I never should have asked you to kill me so soon." For a few moments, Dean just sat there, Cas in his arms, both of them scared and trying not to drag the other down with them. "Sam's probably waiting in the Impala," Dean said. He gently let Cas out of their embrace after one more kiss, short but perfect. 

"I guess we should go, then," Cas said, reluctant to leave this moment where time didn't matter and nobody was around to interrupt them. 

"Yeah." Dean stood up, holding out his hand and pulling Cas up to standing. "Let's go." He seemed just as eager to leave as the angel was. "What'll you do about this?" he asked, unable to look at the dead bodies too long.

"I'll take care of it," Cas assured him. He and Dean finally left the house, holding hands and staying close together, hoping for everything to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I will admit, the original ending I had in mind did not go like this. I was set on ending this in a much darker way (like I said: the game feature that gave me the idea), but I'm not objecting to how it worked out in the end. Plus, I didn't want everyone to hate me, so there's that. One part of the game feature did make it into the story, though.... "Find a knife." I don't expect you guys to know where I'm coming from, but just be grateful I didn't go down that path.


End file.
